


Dream Away the Cold

by DrunkFujoshi



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Aftercare, Alcohol, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Cunnilingus, Drinking, F/M, Face-Sitting, M/M, Minor Canonical Character(s), Mutual Masturbation, PWP, Past Child Abuse, Sex While Standing, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-02-04
Packaged: 2018-05-16 23:38:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5845369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrunkFujoshi/pseuds/DrunkFujoshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Even as a Witcher, the cold haunted him"</p><p>An introspective on Lambert, and the various people he'd let into his life at one point or another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Yellow (Geralt)

The sun was starting to set when Lambert stormed back into the dining hall of Kaer Morhen in a huff. Lambert’s unflattering entrance was not unusual for him, nor was Ciri in tow, as he’d been over-seeing her training fort the past week. But what was new was the mortified expression on Ciri’s face. 

 

“I’m really sorry Lambert! Really!”

Geralt and Eskel, who were at the table over mugs of spirit, looked up as Lambert stormed by. Ciri was following, frantically try to catch up with him, while Lambert, hand over his left eye, was walking as fast as he could to avoid her as if she was a beggar in Novigrad.

“I didn’t mean to! I really didn’t!” Ciri blurted out. “But Uncle Vesemir said a Witcher needs to wait for the opportunity to strike then-“

Lambert stopped walking, dropped the hand covering his eye, and turned around ready to say some choice words about Vesemir’s teachings, but was interrupted by Geralt. “Ciri what the hell happ-“

Geralt then noticed the beginnings of a black eye that was starting to form on Lambert’s face. Lambert saw Geralt stop and put a hand over his mouth, trying to stifle a smile. Eskel was not as tactful and burst into laughter. “Oh ho ho! Maybe next time you should get the dummy Lambert!” 

“Fuck off Eskel!” He snapped, clearly embarrassed by the entire situation. 

“It’s my fault!” Ciri blurted out. “We were training with the wooden swords and I parried, and Lambert lunged forwards and dodged I countered and well…” She looked sheepish, but Lambert could see there was a hint of pride on the brat’s face for getting the drop on him.

Geralt stood up in an attempt to try to keep the peace. “It’s fine Ciri. Wouldn’t be part of your Witcher training if someone didn’t walk away with a shiner every now and then.”  
“Or sack-tapped” Eskel smirked under his breath. 

Geralt chose to ignore Eskel’s comment. “It’s getting late. Go see what food is left in the kitchen and see if Vesemir has any reading for you to catch up on.”

Ciri rolled her eyes at the notion of catching up on her studies, but reluctantly nodded and looked at Lambert, still believing that maybe by apologizing enough, his black-eye might fade faster. 

“I really am sorry Lambert!” 

“It’s fine” he said dismissively waving his hand with the one that hadn’t resumed being pressed against his eye. “Next time I’ll just make sure-“  
“Not to be hung over!” Eskel interjected, still amused by the entire thing.

“Damn it Eskel, didn’t I tell you to fuck off!”

“Hey hey, enough already.” Geralt moved in front of a now fuming Lambert. “Eskel back off. Ciri. Kitchen. Lambert. Go take a walk. Calm down and once you do, get that eye taken care of.” 

Lambert was already enraged over the humiliation of being bested by a 12 year old girl, and Geralt’s attempt to reduce tensions did little to help. “Yes Papa Vesemir.” He said sarcastically, grabbing the half-finished bottle of spirit that the other two Witchers were still working on and descended up the stair case before either could protest.

He walked up the stairs to the room of his quarters. Ages ago, when he’d first come to Kaer Morhen, there were barracks for the younger Witchers, but now with so few left, each Witcher could have his own pick of their quarters. 

Entering his room, he sat upon the bed, nursing the bottle he’d swiped from Eskel and Geralt in the hopes that it would warm him. It was already winter, the nights were getting darker, the snow that had fallen a few days prior had refused to melt, and he was already feeling the keep getting colder and colder.

Lambert had never liked the cold. The cold brought back memories of his childhood before Vesemir brought him to Kaer Morhen. The wind and frost would seep into that cottage. His father selling off the wooden ax for booze. Him and his mother scouring the woods for kindling, the fear of running into a pack of wolves only slightly more harrowing than the fear of freezing to death. His fingers always numb from the cold. His mother grasping his small cold hands in hers and blowing on them, her warm breath being a small comfort as she asked him to pray with her… 

Even as a Witcher the cold haunted him. The other Witchers who survived the Trial of the Leaves described the pain on different levels, from being burned alive, to being stabbed by a thousand blades. Lambert remembered Eskel once telling him after a night of heavy drinking that it felt like his skin was being flayed off. 

But for Lambert it was a horrific cold, as if his own blood had turned to ice.

 

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. “Come to get the booze back Geralt?” The door opened and Geralt stuck his head in. “You knew it was me?”

Lambert rolled his eyes “We might not all be the famed white wolf, but pretty sure everyone In this frozen hellhole but your brat has those fancy heightened senses. What’s going on? You mad I cussed in front of a kid?”

“Actually,” Geralt approached him. “Wanted to see how you were doing”

“What this?” He motioned to his swollen eye with the hand that wasn’t gripping a bottle of wine. “This is nothing. You should have seen me after I bested that Moh Shuvuu last year. Not worth the crowns. Promise you Geralt, nothing’s broken… ‘cept my pride.” He took a sip from the bottle. “Your little brat is getting quicker every day. Took on the pendulum today, too. Not a scratch on her.” 

Geralt smirked “Is that a touch of pride I hear in your voice?”

“Ugh,” Lambert said, dismissing the remark. “She’s your surprise child. Not mine.” 

Geralt easily brushed off the dismissive remark and refocused his attention on Lambert. “You put something on your eye?”

“It’s fine- not gonna go through my swallows for it.”

“You could just rebrew them. Got a lot of free time here.”

“Well.” Lambert gestured to the bottle he was currently holding. “My free time can be spent pursuing more productive past-times. And I hate meditating.”

“Angry, Prickly Lambert hates meditating?” Geralt said sarcastically. “Never saw that coming. I’d get you a steak to put on that wound, but pretty sure Vesemir wouldn’t appreciate the waste of food.” He walked over to the window in Lambert’s quarters, snow still gathered on the ledge from the outside. 

“Geralt. Give it a rest will you, it-oh thanks. Let the cold in. Yeh, not like I’m already fucking freezing.”

Geralt ignored his protests and opened up the window, snow from the previous week had yet to melt, but had hardened into small mounds of ice that Geralt easily broke off. “You’re always freezing Lambert.” He said re-closing the window. “Might be fair to warn you this won’t be helping that much.”

Realizing what he intended to, Lambert gave a sigh of disbelief. “Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Lambert could see the smugness in that bastard’s face as he walked towards him, ice in hand. “Think warm thoughts Lambert.”

The shock of the cold ice along with the pain from his injury as it was pressed up against his eye made him wince. “S’shit Geralt.. You always gotta’…stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.” 

“And you always act like a real stubborn jack-ass. Doesn’t mean I can’t try to help when I can.” 

“Yeh yeh.. I know. The noble White Wolf. Geralt of Rivia. The Witcher who’s fame has boosted him into the halls of politicians and into the knickers of sorceresses”  
Geralt moved the ice away from Lambert’s eye. The ice had numbed the pain a bit as reluctant as it was for Lambert to admit. “There.” He said, giving a patronizing pat n Lambert’s back. “That wasn’t so hard was it?”

“Ugh. Spare me the sanctimony. I like you more when you’re scowling and roaming the north in search of evil-doers to stop.”

“Aw. You like me Lambert?”

Lambert took another drink from the bottle of spirit. For all his issues with Geralt, he’d known the man for as long as he’d been at Kaer Morhen, and like all Witchers, that was much longer than his appearance would imply. And for all the boundaries he’d built up, on occasion he’d let it crack. Especially when Geralt was around. 

“Look wolf, I hate it hear in the winter. Hate the cold, hate the memories. Hate that you brought back some little brat that will be kicking all of our asses in a few years with the way she’s progressing and she never even had to undergo the hell that was the trials. I still get nightmares about that fucking thing. But yeh…” he looked away, slightly embarrassed at confessing this all. “It’s good to reunite with you. Even when you’re being a blowhard.” 

The insult brought a smile to Geralt’s face, it was one that was coy. Almost flirtatious. “I thought I was a noble, sanctimonious, blowhard.”

“Oh You are.” Lambert said, but unlike his normal spats with Geralt that lead to him storming off in a rage, he stayed on the bed, with Geralt still crouched next to him, the ice in his hand, slowly dripping onto the wood floor.

“ You’re all those fucking things, I can’t stand it, can’t stand those ballads Dandelion writes about you, all your stories about curses and monsters..” Lambert leaned closer to him, still sitting on the bed. “All those ladies of the court and debutants you woo. Fucking must come so easy to you.” 

“I’d almost say you were jealous Lambert.” Geralt’s tone didn’t take offense. It was cautious, but curious, and he leaned forward at Lambert and looked at him. Their yellow eyes locking. 

Lambert kissed him. It was angry. Intense, he felt Geralt’s beard brush against his own, felt Geralt’s tongue force his way into his mouth. Geralt’s strong hands grabbing him and forcing his body against his own. “Damn you’re warm.” he muttered as he broke off their kiss and ran his fingers along Geralt’s white hair. 

“Mm..” Geralt nodded. “You’re not too bad yourself.” 

Lambert scoffed. “We both know I’m freezing right now. No need to charm me, Wolf. I’m not some tavern lass” he said, shifting on the bed. “Easily wooed by Geralt of Rivia”  
Geralt followed suit, continuing to kiss him. “Lambert…” he heard him mutter between their kisses, quick, exploring. Lambert wondered if Geralt had ever taken a man as a lover before. “If there’s anything you don’t want to-” 

“Relax old man…” he huffed as he untied Geralt’s jerkin with surprisingly nimble hands considering how cold he felt. “…Would appreciate you drop the concerned big brother act considering what I want you to do” 

To his surprise, Grealt studied him for a moment before simply nodding. “Very well.”

Lambert gave a rather undignified yelp as Geralt easily pushed him back and onto the bed and climbed onto him, his weight pushing Lambert further down into that lumpy straw-stuffed mattress. He easily undid Lambert’s own jacket and tunic, and kissed him again, first slow, but a quick nip on his lip made Lambert jump in surprise.  
“Stop that you jack-ass…” 

Geralt gave another one of those damn smirks on his face. “Didn’t realize you were that sensitive there. Is there anywhere else I should be aware of?”

Before he could answer, the other witcher quickly nipped at his bare chest, biting at his nipple. Lambert failed to stifled a groan and his hips bucked against Geralt’s. This only elicited yet another smirk from him. 

“well well.. Who’d have thought the aloof and cynical Lambert was so sensitive there as well…”

“Fuck you” was going to be what Lambert wanted to say, but another bite from Geralt was enough to prevent him from finishing his sentence. 

“What was that?” Geralt asked. His face learning next to Lambert’s the scruff of his beard scratching his own as he whispered “Because I think it might be the other way around”

Lambert scoffed “the other way around?” he said mimicking Geralt’s raspy voice. “You sound like every smutty romance book ever written. What else were you gonna say Geralt? One sword is for monsters.. the OTHER for men?? Let’s hope you fuck less cliché than you talk dirty”. 

For all his prickliness, he had yet to get a rise out of Geralt who merely shrugged. “Fine. We can cut to the chase.” Geralt stood up from the bed, removing his final articles of clothing, while Lambert followed suit. 

“Check my satchel. There should be something in there.” He watched as Geralt rummaged through the bag next to the bed. “No that’s hybrid oil! The other one.”

Finally grabbing the proper vial, Geralt climbed back on the bed. “Not the hybrid oil?” He asked, dry voice aside, Lambert detected a hint of sarcasm. 

“Not unless I want my ass burning until spring comes. Give me that” He reached for the vial, but Geralt held it at arm’s length, the weight of his body preventing Lambert from reaching up and snatching it. 

“So impatient…” Geralt chided, opening the contents of the vial and spilling the substance onto his fingers. “you’d think you had somewhere to be”. Fingers now coated, he learned forward, giving a playful bite to Lamberts neck as he eased the first finger into him. Lambert winced slightly, it had been a while and he felt like one of those damned temple virgins Geralt was no doubt ravishingly in the many adventures he was having. A second finger entered him and Lambert, refusing to let Geralt hear him moan again, buried his face into the other witcher’s chest, his own teeth biting down hard on Geralt’s skin. 

He felt Geralt’s body tense from the bite, both fingers now in him slowly touching and thrusting. “Should have pegged you for a bitter with that acid tongue of yours.”  
Lambert tried to come up with a sarcastic remark, but Geralt’s fingers in him were making him loose his edge and all that came out was an undignified moan that he was unable to muffle. He heard Geralt pur at him the way he did with all those damned horses he’d had at one time or another. The thought of Geralt commanding him the way he did an animal enraged him, but any curt comments he’d have made was lost yet again as Geralt firmly worked his way into him, knowing just where to move, where to touch.  
“D-damn it Geralt” he finally managed to gasp out as Geralt lightly ran his finger nails up and down his thigh with his free hand, occasionally giving it a firm squeeze as Lambert squirmed around in a mix of pleasure and embarrassment. 

“What’s wrong Lambert? Want me to stop?” There was a coy smile on Geralt’s face and Lambert realized in frustration what Geralt wanted. Well fuck him and his smug look and his experience in pleasuring ever y sorceress and damsel from here to Lyria. He sure as shit wasn’t going to give Geralt the satisfaction of seeing him beg like some tavern wench.  
He gave another moan in frustration, thrusting his hips, desperately trying to fuck himself on Geralt’s fingers, but that firm hand on his thigh, held him in place while he squirmed in frustration, his own cock painfully stiff and starting to leak precum. 

“Fuck me.” Lambert finally managed to say, his head turned to the side, face red with how quickly he’d lost his resolve. Much to his annoyance, Geralt kept his fingers inside him and gave his thigh a squeeze, his voice as calm and controlled as ever. “Was that a statement or a request?” 

“Okay okay!” he blurted out. His impatience wining over his need for pride. “Geralt PLEASE fuck me”. 

Geralt thankfully choose to ignore Lambert’s eye-roll that came with that statement and pulled his figures out of him while giving his thigh a playful slap. “Thought you’d never ask.” 

Lambert sighed and rolled over on all fours, mostly so Geralt wouldn’t have the enjoyment of seeing how red his face had gotten at vocalizing that request. He felt Geralt press up against him, cock thick and pressed up against his ass. Strong scared arm wrapped around his waist, warm breath against his ear and gentle bites up and down his neck that caused him to forget his anger in allowing himself to get into this situation in the first place. 

“You ready?” He heard Geralt ask.

“I’m not gonna give you the pleasure of hearing me beg twice.” Lambert said between grit teeth. 

Geralt give a small laugh and with a quick thrust pushed himself into Lambert. 

The pressure was intense, painful and Lambert found himself crying out and struggling to form proper words as Geralt dug his fingers into Lamberts shoulder and thrusted into him in controlled steady movements that caused his knees to shake and his thighs to tremble. He found himself burying his face into the mattress, fearful his noises would wake the other occupants of Kaer Morhen. He felt Geralt slow down, hand gently placed on his back. “Lambert. Do you-“

“No!” he snapped. “don’t you dare stop you son of a bitch!” 

His sudden outburst got yet another smirk out of Geralt. “Even in bed you’re as prickly as ever.” 

Whatever response Lambert was going to make was lost as Geralt resumed fucking him, picking up his speed, hands on his hips, pulling him down onto Geralt’s cock. Lambert finally was able to gain enough lucidity to form whole words again, but most of them profanity.

“Shit shit shit… Geralt.. I’m gonna-“ one of Geralt’s hands reached under his hips and grabbed his cock, gently stroking it much to his surprise. “What the fuck are you doin-“  
“Shhh….” Geralt learned forward, giving his neck a hard nip. “I want you to come for me.” 

Lambert’s words were yet again lost as beads of sweat pooled down his red-flushed face as Geralt’s strokes became faster and harder, match the rhythm of his thrusting. He cried out and came, spilling into Geralts hand. Fists clenching the bed sheets, he buried his face back into the mattress , cock throbbing from it’s intense release as Geralt continued to fuck him. He heard Geralt give a low moan of his own, hand on his hips suddenly digging into him hard enough to bruise. “Shit Geralt don’t do it in-“, but he realized it was too late as Geralt gently pulled out of him, his own cum starting to leak out. 

Geralt fell back into bed, unaware of Lambert’s frustrations. 

“You really couldn’t pull out? Son of a bitch.” Lambert struggled to get up, with the intent of spitefully finding Geralt’s discarded jerkin to clean himself up with, but the shakiness in his thighs made him flop back down in bed next to Geralt. 

He tried to pull himself up again, but felt Geralt put his hand on the small of Lambert’s back. “Don’t worry about it. Stay there.” He felt the bed shift as Geralt got up, heard the sounds of the water basin and a few minutes later felt the bed shift again and the feeling of a wet cloth against his thighs. 

The shockingly intimate act got a cold scoff from Lambert. “you do this with all the sorceresses you woo into bed too?” 

“No.” Geralt said dryly finished up and tossing the cloth to the side “Only for complaining pricks like you.” 

“Hardy Fucking Har” . 

Finding enough strength in his legs finaly, Lambert pulled himself up and burrowed himself under the bedsheets. 

He heard Geralt chuckle “Never did like the cold… you want some company Lambert?”

“Fuck off Geralt” he muttered exhausted into the blanket. 

______________________________


	2. Red (Aiden)

It had been three years since he’d met Aiden after taking that Ogre contract and the two of them were nearly inseparable. Lambert had always thought himself close to his remaining Witcher Brothers at the Wolf School, but there was something about Aiden that made Lambert idolize him. He was sarcastic, charming, and handsome in an off-beat way. Often they had to go separate paths for a variety of reasons, but when they reunited to take jobs, it was as if fire met oil. Lambert could not remember anyone giving him as much a thrill as Aiden did. He tried to keep up his cynical and bitter self. Keep the walls and boundaries he’d spent so much of his life building up, but one cocky grin from Aiden and that all dropped in an instant. 

After killing a Basilisk that had been terrorizing a local duchess’s estate and on the verge of ruining her garden party, the men had been paid more than enough that it would be another month or two before they needed to live hand to mouth again. 

They’d rented a room at the inn with their reward money along with a few bottles of vodka. The room was small with no chairs, so they sat on the bed drinking what was now their 2nd bottle and enjoying the time honored Witcher tradition of comparing battle scars. 

“But of course, I was so busy trying to dodge the claws, I forgot about the tail. BOOM!” Aiden slapped the side of the wall for emphasis “Flew right into a tree. Blood everywhere. Wasn’t for Igni, I’d be dead.” He gave that cocky smirk of his that Lambert found more charming than he had any right to and gently taped Lambert’s nose, indicating the once broken ridge. “Always meant to ask, How’d you get that? Bar brawl defending some poor scullery maid’s honor?” 

“My old man broke it.” Not waiting for Aiden’s response, he grabbed the bottle out of the other Witcher’s hands and took a swig. The vodka burned and he took a small shudder. “Always use to beat me, but that time… I hit him back. Must have struck a nerve ‘cause he threw down his switch and punched me square in the face. Never healed right. But hey-“ He gave Aiden a cocky smile. “Gives me charm.”

Aiden snorted. “Gives you a lot of words I could think of, charm wasn’t gonna be one of them. So what happened to the whoreson?”

“Fuck if I know. After I left the wolf school, I headed back to that village… not sure what I was gonna do. Witchers can’t really settle down, but I thought, maybe finally finish the job those nekkers had set out to do. Thought if I made some coin, I could start sending it to my Mom. Make sure she didn’t want for nothing. But there was nothing there. Whole fucking village had been ransacked by the war. Not even sure which army. My Mom… just hope she died quickly. But my Dad.” Lambert took a swig of the vodka. “Hope he died screaming.” Lambert thought about passing the bottle back to Aiden, but seeing that they had at least two more bottles to spare, decided to finish it off. He gave a weak laugh. “Shit… you’re the first person I’ve told that all too since Voltehre.”

“Who was that?”

“Another friend. Didn’t finish the trials.”

Aidae didn’t give him grief over the now finished vodka and learned over to grab another bottle. “Sounds like you don’t have a lot of friends.”

Lambert gave a mocking laugh. “What? Me, with my charming personality and ravishingly good looks have no friends?” 

“I said you didn’t have a lot you smart-ass” 

“I thought me being a smart-ass was what you liked about me Aiden”

Aiden put the unopened bottle of vodka on the floor of their tiny room, “I like a lot of things about you Lambert.” He learned forward and kissed him. Lambert tasted the vodka on his mouth burning like fire and for what might have been the first time in his life, he didn’t feel cold. 

Lambert kissed him back, feeling his tongue in his mouth, warm and engulfing. He felt Aiden tugging at his jacket in a frantic attempt to undress him. This kissing felt different than the various trysts with partners over the years. It was urgent, intense. Aiden kissed him as if he was trying to breathe life into him. Between the manic bouts of kissing, Lambert managed to kick his trousers and boots off and push Aiden back down onto the bed, who was now undressed as well, his erection stiff. Aiden tugged him down, kissing him and Lambert felt his own cock hardening against the warmth of Aiden’s stomach. 

Aiden gripped his shoulders firmly and in one swift move appropriate from someone who was from the school of the cat, flipped Lambert on his back. Straddling him, his yellow eyes looking back at him. Lambert’s arousal was now mixed with further idolization of the other Witcher. 

Grinding against him, Aiden managed to grab both their cocks together in one of his hand. Pushing himself up with his free hand, he frantically started to rub both of their cocks together, getting an approving moan out of Lambert. 

“Shit Aiden.” He managed to gasp out. “You feel so good… so fucking warm. I’ve…AH-“

They both came at the same time, cum spilling into Aiden’s hand and onto Lambert’s stomach. Aiden leaned forward on breathing heavily, his cat medallion resting gently on Lambert’s chest, indifferent to the mess he was pressed against. 

“… at the same time.” Lambert managed to finally gasp out between Aiden’s heavy panting. “That’s some romance novel shit right there.” 

Aiden’s head was pressed between his chest and he let out a soft laugh, muffed slightly. “Admit it. You wouldn’t have had it any other way with me.” 

He rolled over next to Lambert, pushing up against him in a bed that was clearly designed for one person, he reached across, idly fiddling with Lambert’s wolf medallion, now soaked in both men’s sweat. “How long now?” 

“Hm?”

“How long have you wanted to fuck me.” 

“Since the start.” Lambert said, surprised how easy the words came out. How easily Aiden had been able to take down those barriers he’d worked his entire life to throw up. He looked over at him. 

“What about you?” 

“Well….” Aiden’s face went from serious to that damned cocky grin. “Around that time that Rotfiend exploded on you in Velen. I saw you covered in guts and about to puke out your own and said ‘Yep! What a stunning and ravishing man-‘“

Lambert grabbed the pillow from underneath his own head and feebly swatted it at Aiden. “That was not funny you jack-ass! I reeked for a week and that was after burning my fucking clothes”

Aiden continued to laugh, making not effort to even defend himself. “Yeh. Not funny to YOU.” 

“Oh get fucked Aiden!” 

“Brave words to tell a man you’re naked in bed with.. but…”

Aiden pulled himself up again, gently kissing the nape of Lambert’s neck, kissing lower down to his navel, and lower to his crotch, each kissing causing his still sensitive body to squirm. “If you insist smart-ass…” 

_____

They stayed in Cidaris for another month until it became clear there was little work left for a Witcher outside of a few crowns for drowners and parted ways. Aidan saw him off by the docks, the two men gave each other a strong parting embrace and for a shameful moment Lambert felt hesitant to let go. To remove himself from Aiden’s warm body and return to the bitter cold winds that were blowing in from off the sea. 

Aidan put a reassuring hand on Lambert’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll see you in Kovir in the fall smart-ass.”

Lambert nodded. “Yeh. See ya’ then.”


	3. Blue (Keira)

The decision for both of them to travel together was mutual. Lambert couldn’t really justify it other than he found Keira Metz stunning. Beautiful, eccentric, and from what few conversations they’ve had, is just as sarcastic and witty as… he stopped before he could think of that name. It was still too soon of think of him. Those involved in his murder were dead, but the memory of Aidens’ s touch all over his body was still too raw. 

Keira’s proposition to him had been simple. She wanted to research the Catriona plague. Most of the main research was lost, but she felt with enough funding she might be on the right track. Lambert could offer her protection, and would be a big help in procuring some of the odder items that were only found in monsters that he specialized in killing. She didn’t offer much in return, but she was beautiful and as she had rightfully pointed out, there was no way in hell he was ever returning to Kaer Morhen. 

Keira might have not been Yenn or Marigold, but her power was impressive even to a cynical bastard like him and as soon as Lambert had recovered from his injuries, they set out from Kaer Morhen, away from that place of so many bitterly cold winters.  
____________  
Lambert didn’t understand Keira’s annoyance at the in decent inn they’d found themselves at in a Kernow. He had figured after weeks of travel, she’d have been delighted to be back in some form of civilization, but his half-hearted attempts at meditation was being constantly interrupted by her pacing back and forth, trying to explain her plan to him. 

“If I can get in as a king’s advisor like I did with Foltest , then I can have access to a lab. A real one, not a bloody dinner table. Of course the problem is simply finding if the place that has a need for an advisor in the first place... Ugh…” She glanced around in frustration at the small room they had acquired in the town. 

Lambert still in his meditation stance raised an eye-brow and looked up at her. “Really Metz?”

Calling her by her last name never got the rise out of her it had with Triss Marigold, but he found himself doing it anyway when he got testy with her.

“It’s got for walls and a fireplace. Even has a bed. Sorry if it’s not made out of silks and fucking marzipan like those fancy palaces you were in before, but for a Witcher this is pretty good.” He stood up from his stance, looking at Keira. “You wanna know how many Witchers ask for rooms at inns and get pointed to the dog kennel? If I got paid for every time that happened, I wouldn’t have to take contracts”

“Oh please Lambert.” Keira scoffed. “Are you sure it didn’t have anything to do with your charming personality?” 

She continued to unpack and set up her elaborate assortment of plants, jewelry and books. Lambert was not sure how she’d managed to acquire so many things when he clearly remembered them traveling together with only a few saddlebags, but he was quickly learning to not question the sort of magic a sorceress did. 

“Now then.” She turned to him. “We should only be here for a few weeks. Hopefully after then we can move on, but for now, I must do some research, both on the plague and if there are any other mages and the like I can make contact with- What are you doing?” She looked over at Lambert who’d started to try to on the various hats that Keira had brought with her, looking into her vanity mirror contemplatively with each one. “Lambert! Stop that! You have no idea how much those hats cost!” Grabbing a rather large dusty book with one hand, she gave him a dismissive wave. “This is no time to be silly! Go out for the day! Take contracts or whatever it is you do”

“Yeh sure…” Lambert said, putting a rather fancy looking bonnet down and re-strapping his swords to his back. “Wouldn’t want you to be without coin to purchase more silk knickers.”

“Oh spare me the sarcasm Lambert. You’re acting childish. Now go look for work before that smart mouth gets the better of you and I put you over my knee.”

Lambert gave a cocky grin “Is that a promise Metz?”

He left quickly without waiting for Keira to answer. 

________  
It was dawn when Lambert stumbled back into their room. Keira looked up from her table where she was working with an assortment of herbs and that large dusty book she’d been going over since they’d settled into the room at the Inn the week prior. 

“Lambert what in the name of the gods, it’s 7 in the morning! Are you drunk agai- Oh!” She gasped when she saw the trail of blood pooling from both him and the head of an Amphisbaena he’d brought in. “What are you doing?? Is that blood? What is that? A Basilisk??” Lambert dropped the head on the floor where it comically rolled over to her feet. 

The offering did little to calm Keira’s nerves “An Amphisbaena? What on earth- Lambert did it bite you?!” 

“Worth it Metz… This is gonna get us.” He tried to explain to get her to calm down, the last time he’d seen her like this, a rat had gotten into their camp. “500 crowns…” his head was feeling lighter and lighter by the minute and the pain in his side was making it harder to concentrate. “500 crowns… was gonna drop it off just… need… to…” He struggled to think of the words. “Not be awake… for... a time.”

Kicking the head to the side like a deflated hand-ball, Keira ran over to him. “It did bite you! Lambert! Bloody hell!” 

“Naw.” Lambert said waving his hand under the impression that the patronizing action would calm her down. “Just some.. venom.. should be ok. Took a golden oriole… just need-“ Lambert couldn’t finish his sentence as the last thing he remembered was the ground rushing up to meet his face. 

He heard Keira yell his name, felt her roll him over and pull open his jacket and tunic to reveal the nasty wound on the lower left side of his abdomen where the creature had bit him. She took his face in his hands, an act Lambert thought was oddly romantic were he not bleeding all over the floor. “Lambert, Ugh!, I need you to stay awake.” She left moment, rummaging around in her collection of viles, coming back with a small chalice that she put to his mouth. She titled his head back and he felt a bitter liquid being forced down his throat. Lambert sputtered on the liquid and tried to say her name, but his mouth tasted of copper and mustard. “What did you give-“ 

“The Amphisbaena toxins have gotten into your blood. You have to flush them out.”

Lamberts eyes widened. “You mean…” He didn’t finish his sentence as he rolled onto his side and vomited onto the floor, adding to the Witcher and monster blood that was already there. 

Lambert continued to vomit until the contents of his stomach were empty and he was dry heaving. Keira handed him the chalice again, this time with water materialized in it. He tried to refuse, knowing he couldn’t keep anything in him right now, but she insisted, regardless that it came up a minute later. 

“Well…” Lambert managed mutter before passing out again “not like…. floor wasn’t already ruined for the day…” 

His sleep was filled with horrible dreams. His father beating him until blood ran down his backside and thighs. His mother begging for her life as soldiers in black armor slashed her throat. Aiden lying on the ground, blood pooling out from his chest, staining his medallion. Keira’s body, cold and lifeless, impaled on a stake, her face still showing her final moments of agony. 

Lambert woke up screaming. He felt hands on him, holding him down. For a second he panicked, wanting to cast Aarad, but he managed to find the cohesiveness to stop himself. The hands were small, soft, warm. He heard Keira screaming his name. “Lambert! It’s alright!” Lambert struggled to focus, looking at Keira’s face, her beautiful eyes that where now full of worry.

“You were dead.” He rasped out. “Dead like the others…They fucking took you..” for a second his felt his fear over-whelmed him, the terror of yet another person in his life being forcefully taken from him. “They fucking took you and then they… they…” 

“Hush… Hush… It’s the fever.” He frantically fought to sit up, but she firmly held him down and waved her hand over him whispering some incantation he wasn’t familiar with. 

“You can’t die too Keira! Not like Aid-“

“Shh…Sleep.”

He eased back down into what was this time, a thankfully dreamless sleep.

He awoke to the smell of thyme and marigolds, turning his head over to the side, he saw Keira grinding together a paste with a pestle and mortar. 

“Ah, good. You’re awake. It looks like the venom didn’t have any serious effects. Give it another week or two and it will just another dashing scar for you”

Lambert darted his eyes around the room. Keira had undressed him, his bloody clothes now on the floor that was now cleaned from the blood and vomit he’d donated to it earlier. 

“If you’re worried about the head, fret not. I preserved it with a spell I use for preventing fruits from going too ripe… It should be fine once you’re ready to collect your reward on your own two feet.” 

“Great,” Lambert muttered, his side throbbing and mouth still tasting like that damned concoction she’d made him drink earlier. “I’ll look for it in the icebox next to the grapes-“ 

He winced slightly as Keira, applied the paste on his wound, the sting from the mixture bubbling around it. 

“Whatever were you doing going after an Amphisbaena? And don’t they have two heads? You only brought back one.”

“Amphisbaena are symbiotic,” he explained, remembering the teachings drilled into him by Vesemir at Kaer Moren. “They can’t survive with just one head. Made the whole thing tricky though. Tracked it into it’s lair, stabbed it right in the head, didn’t move fast enough from the other head in time though. Glad it only got my side though. Saw one once burrow into a man’s stomach, eat away at his intestines like it was bobbing for apples at a summer festival” 

Keira shook her head in disapproval at the graphic description. “You’re a damned fool Lambert. Amphisbaena venom can rot a regular man from the inside out. Witchers and their mutations can only do so much to strive it off. What were you thinking?”

He tried to roll his eyes at her chiding, but found the act of doing it made him nauseous. “Thought maybe I could take that 500 crowns could buy you a pretty dress” he said sarcastically. 

Keira as always, was unphased by his remark. “Please Lambert. I’ve seen how you Witchers dress. I’d trust a drunk Goodling to find me a fashionable dress before you.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve had plenty of experience with the garments of sorceresses.” 

“I thought you’d told me you’d never been with a sorceress.”

“I haven’t.”

“Then why-“ She sighed, clearly realizing that any answer Lambert gave would be more information on him than she cared to know. “Never mind. I’m just relived you’re alright. It was hard enough to acquire one witcher to go along with me in this plan, I’m not sure I’d be able to find another one as willing so quickly” 

“so glad you value me that much Metz…” he muttered. “Make me feel really valued and appreciated.”

"Oh hush Lambert.. If you wern't appreciate, I certainly wouldn't be wasting my time in this run-down inn making sure you lived through the night." She gently bandaged his wound. “You might still feel a bit out of sorts for a while. But I can easily make you a potion for the pain-“ 

Lambert reached out and put his hand on hers, rough and calloused. 

“This is the second time you’ve saved my life.” 

She looked at him, almost amused “Are you embarrassed Lambert?” 

“Naw. I’m embarrassed about passing out on the floor in my own puke. I mean, not that I haven’t done that before, but try to not doing that in front of a pretty sorceress like you.”

Keira scoffed. “Your flirtation skills are about as good as your fashion sense.”

“Oh I’m SO sorry m’lady” Lambert said, trying to mockingly pantomime tipping a hat, which he was soberingly realizing was harder to do bed-ridden and still exhausted from his injuries. “We can’t all be the suave and charismatic Geralt of Rivia.” He smirked, his voice doing his finest Geralt imitation. “Oh faire wench sorceress after I show to my swords of silver and steal, I shall show you my third sword..... of flesh!”

Keira huffed. “You’re incorrigible” But Lambert could see she was trying to cover up her amusement. 

“Well if you like that, I got more where that came from.”  
____________  
Lambert kept his promise and a few days later after the monster’s head was delivered and the 500 crowns paid, he did not buy Keira Metz a pretty dress, but did purchase her a bottle of wine, which they were now partaking in as he gleefully showed her his other impersonations of Geralt. 

“What? He never told you that shit? SILVER… FOR MONSTERS… STEAL… FOR OTHER MONSTERS”

Keira burst out laughing. “Does he know you do that?”

“Yep. Doesn’t piss him off as much Vesemir when…” He trailed off. Vesemir was dead and yet all his anger and rage at his forced destiny refused to leave with the old man. 

“Speaking of monsters.” Keira waved her hand a small parchment fell into Lambert’s lap. “Inside is a list of items I shall need to continue my research. Simple things, drowner brains, wolf hearts. The next time you’re out, do be a dear and pick them up.” 

“Really? I just became able to piss while standing again and you’re already sending me off on your errands?”

“Oh come now!” Keira playfully squeezed his thigh. “The sooner I acquire those items, the sooner we can leave this dull town. I heard a rumor that an advisor might be needed over in Burge”

“Yeh.” Lambert said sarcastically taking another sip of his wine “Can’t wait to leave this life of sleeping in a bed. Must be TORTURE for you Mentz.”

She laughed. “Do you really have such low standards? Even Geralt knew his wines and was willing to don a fancy doublet from time to time. But I doubt you’ve never even had a proper bath.”

“That’s a low blow.”

“Lambert. Falling out of your boat drunk does not count as a bath.”

“Well drat!” He said mockingly “And for the record, I know my wines perfectly well. THIS wine-“ He swirled the wine around in its glass and took an exaggerated sip. “…is red.” 

Keira sighed, put down her wine glass and mockingly clicked her tongue. “Oh Lambert, Lambert, Lambert… what am I to do with you?”

Lambert put a hand up to her face, her golden hair gently sliding out through his fingers. “I have a few ideas.” 

They kissed. Keira tasted like mulled wine and cinnamon and for the first time since he’d kissed Aiden, Lambert didn’t feel so cold. He kissed her harder, all teeth and tongue before slowing down, running his fingers through her hair once more. She pushed him back onto the bed, his wine glass tipping over and spilling onto the now much vandalized floor. He kissed her again, running his hands over her breasts which were now fully exposed along with the rest of her nude body thanks to a rather notorious spell all sorceresses were rumored to know. 

He gave her nipple a small pinch and delighted with how she moaned and squirmed. She playfully pulled him further down on the bed, and repositioned herself so that her cunt was right over her face. Grabbing her thighs, Lambert pulled her legs open and licked her inner wet lips, moving his tongue in circles around her warm, wet opening. He was not incredibly experienced in the current act she was demanding, but from her moans of pleasure, and how she was gripping the bed frame, he assumed he was performing to her satisfaction. Keira bucked her hips up and down onto his mouth, and he felt her body shudder, riding out her orgasm on top of him. 

Lambert repositioned himself, pulling Keira down and pulling himself up again, his lips still wet from her, he hesitated to kiss her again, not entirely sure of if that was appropriate, but she pulled him in for another kiss, that followed by a playful nip at his lip. 

Lambert quickly jumped off the bed, undressing himself in the process. He leaned over, pulling Keira up as her hands wrapped around him tight. He grabbed her thighs and lifted her off the ground while she yelped in delight. 

He backed up against the wall of their room, using it to brace her and in one swift movement, he thrusted up into her, she moaned and clung to him even tighter as he fucked her, his hands gripping her ass, her legs now tightly wrapped around him. She felt so fucking tight and warm that Lambert couldn’t help but wonder if that was just another part of a sorcercess’s glamor and conditioning. Witchers got heightened senses and yellow eyes, Sorceresses got beautiful bodies and tight cunnies.

Lambert thrusted up and down, Keira’s beautiful flawless breasts moving up and down in a rhythmic motion. Nipples flushed pink, giving him a rather filthy idea. 

Pulling her away from the wall, he managed to carry both of them back over to the bed where he pulled out of Keira, lowering her back into the bed, trying not to awkwardly throw her into it. 

“Let me fuck your tits.” He managed to gasp out, straddling her, his own erection still hard and slicked from being in her moments ago. 

“You needn’t ask Lambert.” Keira said. Lambert straddled forward on Keira, cock between her breasts, hands on both sides of them, pushing them against his cock. He trusted against them, so soft and warm, just like the rest of her, just like it had felt when he’d been inside her until he finally gave a shudder and came, His own cum spilling onto those beautiful tits of hers. 

“That….” Lambert tried to smoothly roll off Keira, but ended up next to her, face buried into the bed in exhaustion and amazement. 

“I just….” He tried to catch his breath. “Never been with a girl with tits as big as yours… Wanted to..ya’ know..” 

Keira chuckled. “Then you’ve never been with a sorceress in general. We are well known for being well endowed with charms”

Lambert gave a laugh and propped himself up on his elbows raising an eye-brow at Keira. “Charms? Is that what the people in those fancy palaces of yours call them?”

“Don’t laugh at their choice of vocabulary. Some members of the court excel when it comes to pleasing a woman in the art of cunnalingus.” She gave him a coy smile and scratched his cropped hair. “You weren’t bad, but I might have to work with you a few more times to improve your technique” 

“Well then…” Lambert said doing his best Vesemir impression. “A Witcher must take much diligence in making sure all of his traits are as refined as his swordsmanship.” He smirked at Keira and noticed her breasts, still stained with his release. “Um… yeh, guess I should get um…” he tried to reach around the bed in an attempt to find something that wasn’t his clothes to clean her off with.

“Actually.” Keira said standing up, “I had a better idea. You don’t share Geralt’s taste in wine, so hopefully not his fear of portals,” she said, waving her hands to conjure up one.

“Never really hung out with enough Sorceresses to get an opinion of portals,” Lambert muttered as he got out of bed, following Keira through it.

The sensation of being transported was quickly countered by the sensation of wet grass under his feet. “Where are we?”

“Just a little bit outside of the town. I had something set up here the other day, now you might not be familiar with it but-“

She gestured to a small clearing in the forest where an elaborate bathtub was set up, large enough for two with warm water steaming up from it. Lambert was tempted to scoff, of course she would have to have a bathtub that elaborate, but , but realizing that he was still naked, and she was the one with access to their way back home, kept his mouth shut for once in his life. 

“Well?” Keira asked him, already have stepped into the water. “Coming?”

“Um… yeh.”

Lambert awkwardly stumbled in after her, the hot water splashing against his body. Slowly he lowered himself down into the tub next to her. He felt oddly vulnerable, and not just because of his nudity. He wondered if this is what Geralt had meant when he’d chided him for never being with a Sorceress. 

Lambert sighed and backed up against the rim of the tub, letting the hot water engulf him, warming his limbs. Keira moved into the waters closer to him, pulling him close to her body. He watched her as she glanced up into the night sky that was lit with a barrage of constellations. 

She pointed to one in the sky “do you know what that constellation is called in Zerrikania?

He shrugged. “Probably something about a dick.” His comment was met with a playful splash of water to his face.

“Really Lambert!”

“Yep!” he said smugly. “That one is the Dragon Dick… and that one is the… Box Dick and that one to the right-“ He was interrupted as Keira kissed him deeply. She broke it off and smiled. “You are incorrigible indeed.”

“Thought that was what you liked about me Mentz.”

“Oh come now…” She ideally ran her finger up and down his chest, tracing his various scars. “How is this?” She asked. “Much better than splashing about in a lake I should hope.”

“Mm…”

Lambert eased himself against the back of the tub and looked up at the night sky. Letting a small bit of the barrier he’d built down for a brief moment.

“It’s warm.”


End file.
